


Resignation

by Thranduil_is_a_bitchking



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, I have feelings, M/M, Spoilers for s3x13, because of THAT episode, but it’s cute too, but they’re disasters tbh, lots of them - Freeform, they have lots of feelings, y’all know the one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 14:47:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13526520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thranduil_is_a_bitchking/pseuds/Thranduil_is_a_bitchking
Summary: It wasn’t often that he sealed a deal with a kiss, but Lucifer hadn’t been able to help himself. He’d tugged Marcus’ hand, and the man had gone willingly, crashing their lips together. They’d pulled back, both of them breathless, and for the first time in a long while, Lucifer had felt hopeful.Lucifer offers to help Marcus, but gets much more than he’d bargained for.





	Resignation

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hey!
> 
> I’m back, with more Lucifer! I’ve writing these two for a while and so I have many feelings about the latest episode.
> 
> Enjoy this little angsty, cute oneshot!

Lucifer gazed out at the sea. His cigarette spilled smoke out into the lilac sky. Marcus still wanted to die. It was a strange concept to Lucifer, death. Humans did it all the time. They had such short lifespans; why their lives were so mundane, he didn’t know. Marcus was different. He was weary. Callous and hardened by age, he had little time for weaknesses and emotions. Immortality was his punishment, and he grew tired of it. That, Lucifer could understand. 

Once he had figured out that his father had used him, _again_ , Lucifer had the time to contemplate Cain’s unfortunate situation. He felt for the man. Both of them had been used by his father. Both of them were nothing but pawns. He’d offered to help him.

It wasn’t often that he sealed a deal with a kiss, but Lucifer hadn’t been able to help himself. He’d tugged Marcus’ hand, and the man had gone willingly, crashing their lips together. The car park had been empty, and no one was around to see the lieutenant aggressively making out with his civilian consultant. Lucifer wouldn’t have cared if they had. Marcus’ body had been warm and solid against his, strong muscles hidden beneath leather and cotton. They’d pulled back, both of them breathless, and for the first time in a long while, Lucifer had felt hopeful.

The deal had been simple. Lucifer helped Marcus die, Marcus helped Lucifer stick it to dear old dad. Easy. No strings attached. If they’d fallen into bed here and there, then it was just as casual as their deal. 

The sun shimmered on the waves. Lucifer pulled himself into the present and rolled his shoulders. They’d made little progress since the whole thing began. He’d used every tool in his arsenal, every blade, every weapon. Even the Devil’s creativity ran dry, and spilling Marcus’ blood over and over became painful for them both. They’d retired to Lucifer’s beach house, with stacks of ancient books in too many languages. They’d found nothing. 

Somewhere behind him, a bottle opened with a crack. After a moment, the cold glass was pressed into his hand. Lucifer took it, and took a mouthful of the expensive whiskey. He handed it back to the man who’d given it to him, and smiled. 

Marcus swigged from the bottle. His eyes moved to take in the view. He found it hard to believe that a month ago he’d been in this very house, gun trained on Lucifer. It felt far away. What he’d felt for him then was hard and cold. The water of the pool to their left rippled in the softening sunlight. The sound soothed the ache he’d felt when he’d woken alone. 

With a sigh, he lent onto the glass railing, whiskey bottle hanging precariously in his grip. Beside him, Lucifer did the same. Their shoulders brushed together, bare skin against bare skin. Silence was their only companion, but it was neither intrusive nor unwelcome. A breeze blew through the open door behind them, into the bedroom. White cotton curtains fluttered in the warm night’s air.

Quietly, Lucifer placed a gentle kiss to Marcus’ temple. It scared him, to know that he’d be responsible for his death. What had begun as a meaningless way to antagonise his father had become something else, something _more_. Something painful. 

Marcus sighed, hand reaching for Lucifer’s own. His fingers sought the band he was so used to feeling, but met nothing but skin. His chest ached. He sometimes forgot it was only for a mission. Only for a few days. They still had the rings. Those two golden bands that had been handed to them with a case file and a briefing, they haunted Marcus. Lucifer had placed them in a box, and they lived in the top drawer of their bedside-table. They were reminder of how, for a short few days, they could pretend to be a normal couple, who worried about paying bills and went on cheesy dates and argued about garbage disposal. The reality was far worse. 

Lucifer flicked the end of his cigarette away, and moved to wrap an arm around Marcus’ waist. Marcus leant into Lucifer’s touch. They stood there until the sun dipped below the horizon, passing the whiskey between them until it was gone. The empty bottle was discarded on a nearby table, and Marcus turned himself more fully into Lucifer’s embrace. Their kiss was soft and unhurried. They pulled back, foreheads touching, sharing the same air. 

The tightness in Lucifer’s chest returned. His grip on Marcus tightened. They’d lose each other, one day. Either Lucifer to Hell, or Marcus to death. Lucifer kissed him again, with conviction. Marcus made a soft noise against his mouth, rocking himself forwards into Lucifer’s body. 

Neither of them were in the habit of lying to each other. Perhaps, they were in the habit of lying to themselves. Agony and heartache laid buried deep behind lust and a casual smile. Three words sat removed from their vocabulary, but not from their hearts. 

Marcus caught Lucifer’s gaze, bright azure to dark brown. He offered Lucifer a hand, which he took, and laced their fingers together. With a gentle tug, he led Lucifer back to their bed.

Tomorrow, Marcus’ blood would stain Lucifer’s hands for the last time.


End file.
